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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422677">Shower Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan'>SashaDistan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Galra Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Antok-centric (Voltron), Body Image, Grooming, Keith is thirsty for his husband at all times, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Self-Esteem Issues, everybody lives ofc, not s8 compliant, set after the war</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:49:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans do not use sonic showers: their cleansing rooms deposit water from the ceiling. This is something Antok forgets when he finishes up at the gym on board the Atlas, resulting in Shiro ending up with a lapful of wet naked Galra, and unhappy knowledge that Antok is so ashamed of the way he looks he's never even let his mate see him without his mask on.<br/>Shiro can't have that, not on his ship.</p><p> </p><p>(Technically, this is also part of the Space Husbands series)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Antok/Kolivan (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Galra Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shower Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Galra Week 2020. Prompt 4: Grooming</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">There is a shout, a crash, then a curse in Galran which makes Keith blush. Antok comes scrambling back into the main gym like a maddened cat. A very wet maddened cat. A very wet, very naked maddened cat. On reflex, Shiro clears his throat and quite suddenly the lights are dimming slightly and Atlas is sounding the chime for the evening meal. People turn and exit the gym through the other doors without saying anything.</p><p class="western">The crew of the Atlas are a mixed bunch of species – even more so now that she has officially decommissioned herself, retooled as a peacekeeping envoy, and refuses to answer to anyone employed by the Garrison – and there have been a variety of fun and ridiculous incidents in the past. But in the previous ten thousand years, no one in the universe has lived with any Galra – because even on joint missions, the Blades always kept to themselves and their own ships – and there have been more than a few wrinkles to iron out.</p><p class="western">And apparently, Antok has just found another one.</p><p class="western">Shiro stands back and lets Keith approach the big Galra cautiously, and with a few soft words of comfort Shiro doesn’t understand. His Galran is limited to the commands of battle and combat, and trying to disassociate those in order to tell his husband he loves him in his second tongue is taking a lot of work.</p><p class="western">But Antok is shivering.</p><p class="western">
  <em>Atlas?</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Captain?</em> she chimes in his head. <em>What can I do for you?</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>Could you turn up the heat please? </em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Of course.</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Just in here!</em> Shiro adds hurriedly. Atlas is very eager to please, but Shiro has also learnt he needs to provide specific parameters when requesting things. <em>Antok is cold.</em></p><p class="western">As Shiro approaches, Keith encourages Antok to stand, and the big Galra does so and then immediately slides in the puddle of shower water he has created. His long tail whips out and catches Shiro around the waist.</p><p class="western">“Whoa there, buddy.” Shiro reaches out a hand to steady him and it ends up on Antok’s very wet, very dark bicep. “You’re OK. It’s OK.”</p><p class="western">“What is this all over me?” Antok scrubs with his claws at his sodden fur, spraying droplets everywhere. “Why won’t it come off?”</p><p class="western">“It’s OK, Antok. It’s just water.” Shiro shoots a panicked look at his husband and mouths: <em>What the fuck?</em></p><p class="western">Atlas prods at his mind from her resting state, chiming helpfully.</p><p class="western">
  <em>Captain?</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Please, what do I need to know?</em>
</p><p class="western"><em>Daibazaal was an arid planet, much befitting it’s natural residents. The planet was destroyed over ten thousand deca-pheobs ago. Since that time, all the Galra have lived in space.</em> This is all familiar information to him, but Atlas does not keep Shiro waiting. She has learnt to parse her facts into accessible chunks, but she still delivers it at the same speed as Pidge when they’re excited. <em>Since most Galra have either fur or scales, they do not bathe the way humans and most other species with skin do, and prefer sonic cleansing devices. These are standard throughout all Galra crafts, both originating in the former empire and with the Marmora.</em></p><p class="western">“Ohhh… you weren’t expecting the shower to cover you with water.”</p><p class="western">Antok bares his fangs for a moment, but Shiro can tell the anger is directed more towards the shower than to him. It occurs to Shiro that he’s never actually seen Antok without his mask covering at least part of his face before. As though reading his thoughts, Antok hides his face behind his massive hands.</p><p class="western">“Hey, come with us.” Keith unwinds the tail from around Shiro’s waist and pets it like one might a large and fluffy snake. “We have that fancy blow dry setting on the shower in our quarters.” Keith meets his eyes, and Shiro nods.</p><p class="western">Keith whistles for Kosmo.</p><p class="western">There is a tang of ozone, the press of soft, dry fur, and then the familiar yet still drastically unpleasant lurching feeling in the pit of Shiro’s stomach as they move through space without actually moving. Kosmo deposits them in a tangle of limbs on the floor of their bathroom, barks in triumph, and vanishes again, presumably to go and steal whatever Hunk has baked recently.</p><p class="western">While Keith convinces Antok that this time the shower is not going to try and drown him, Shiro tries not to stare. The Galra are a highly diverse species, but Shiro has never seen anyone like Antok before. As the jets blow dry his fur, the colours appear more vividly, and Shiro gets an inkling of why Antok is more attached to his uniform than any of the other Blades. (Regris no longer has a standing invitation to spend time aboard the Atlas because it is hard to keep him attached to any kind of clothing at all.)</p><p class="western">Antok’s fur is almost as dark as Keith’s hair, though tinted more towards the purple end of the colour spectrum than true black, and he has striking crimson and lilac markings. Unlike Kolivan’s though, Antok’s do not follow a sleek symmetrical pattern, nor does he have stripes – which Keith has told him a dozen times are not<em> ‘like a tiger’ </em>but Shiro cannot shake the mental image – which many others have. Instead, Antok’s fur is splotched – a streak of red here, a whorl of pale purple there, seemingly at random. There is a slash of lilac across his face, and at first glance it makes his eyes seem uneven, but they are both soft gold, just like Ulaz’s.</p><p class="western">“We don’t have any clothes to fit you,” Keith says as he renters the bathroom, holding a bedsheet turned toga. “This will have to, oh-”</p><p class="western">But it’s not Antok’s unusual fur patterns which have distracted Keith. The moment the drying jets switch off, Antok shakes himself, and with an almost audible <em>poof!</em> the largest Galra in the Blades becomes a fuzzy puff ball of fur and static electricity.</p><p class="western">“Please,” Antok speaks from behind is hands, “just have your wolf deposit me into the black.”</p><p class="western">“Antok, no.” Shiro reaches out and lays his hand on the Galra’s forearm; the sensory feedback from his new streamlined prosthetic is superb because Antok is <em>soft</em>. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”</p><p class="western">“My fur is ruined.”</p><p class="western">“It is <em>not</em>!”</p><p class="western">“It is a poor excuse for a pelt regardless.” Antok’s eyes met Shiro’s through a gap between his fingers. “I am ugly.”</p><p class="western">“Uh-oh….” Keith mutters, unable to hide his smirk. “You’ve gone and done it now, Antok.”</p><p class="western">But Shiro barely hears him. Instead he grabs Antok’s hand and his tail and hauls him out of the bathroom, into their main living quarters, and pushes him into the bedroom. One wall houses their wardrobe, and the front is entirely mirrored.</p><p class="western">“Look!” Shiro commands.</p><p class="western">Antok tries to wrap his tail over his eyes, but Shiro tugs it away.</p><p class="western">“Look.”</p><p class="western">Between being taken prisoner, fighting for his life, vivisection, dying, being a clone, fighting for his life again, being resurrected into a clone body, and loving Keith throughout it all; Shiro has collected far more scars than anyone one man should and be able to live. And because of Keith’s unwavering devotion, from before he left for Kerberos until the end of the universe – and possibly a little longer – Shiro has learnt that each and every part of himself is worthwhile and worth loving. It has been hard, and some things have taken much longer than others, but if Keith says that he is beautiful, then he is.</p><p class="western">Shiro only used to believe it because Keith believes, but now he can look at each part of himself – even the scar across his face which had taken the longest to accept – and find beauty and strength there. Not for anyone else, but for himself.</p><p class="western">“Why won’t you look?”</p><p class="western">“I am ugly.”</p><p class="western">Shiro suppresses the urge to growl.</p><p class="western">“Why?”</p><p class="western">“I am not like other Galra,” Antok says uneasily.</p><p class="western">“Do you think Keith is ugly?”</p><p class="western">“What? No!” Antok looks affronted by the mere suggestion. “Of course not.”</p><p class="western">“But he doesn’t look like other Galra.”</p><p class="western">This is met with silence. Shiro directs Antok’s attention back the mirror, waiting until the big Galra is actually looking before he pulls his shirt off.</p><p class="western">“I am human.” He shrugs, the tiny bit of him which is Galra doesn’t show and doesn’t count when its only effect is being able to manipulate luxite. “But I am not like any other human. I have many, many more scars.”</p><p class="western">“And weird hair,” Keith chimes in from the doorway, “And an interesting arm.”</p><p class="western">“Thanks, baby.”</p><p class="western">“And really cute dimples.”</p><p class="western">“Kitten…” Shiro shakes his head at his husband’s reflection behind them and rolls his eyes fondly. Then he turns back to Antok. “And am I ugly?”</p><p class="western">“No.” Antok frowns, and Shiro wonders if he might be beginning to understand the core of what Shiro is trying to tell him.</p><p class="western">“You should not hide who you are on account of what other people think. I think you are beautiful.”</p><p class="western">“You do?”</p><p class="western">Shiro smiles softly, and strokes his human hand across the three shades of fur which decorate Antok’s shoulder.</p><p class="western">“I’m guessing Kolivan thinks so too.”</p><p class="western">Antok swishes tail nervously, staring at his feet.</p><p class="western">Keith frowns.</p><p class="western">“Antok?”</p><p class="western">“I… I do not let him see me.”</p><p class="western">There is a long, stunned, silence.</p><p class="western">“But- but you’re mated!”</p><p class="western">Antok’s ears flinch back into his mane.</p><p class="western">“Our armour is very efficient.”</p><p class="western">Shiro blinks twice, and leaves that whole image, and the possibly of Kolivan having a conditioned response to the BOM armour, for another time. Maybe later, <em>maybe never</em>. He chews his lip thoughtfully.</p><p class="western">“But does he still tell you are beautiful?”</p><p class="western">“...Yes.” Antok meets his gaze in the mirror. “Oh.”</p><p class="western">Shiro pats him on the arm, and the static makes fur and fingers crackle.</p><p class="western">“It takes time, Antok,” Shiro explains. “But it’s worth it. You’ll see.” He leaves the big mirror and goes to the top drawer of the night stand, by the bed. “But now, you need a brush.”</p><p class="western">“I do?” Antok sounds genuinely surprised, and Keith smiles at his friend.</p><p class="western">“The fuzziness is a side effect of the drying” he explains. “We’ll have you all silky smooth again in no time. Or, Shiro will anyway.” Keith shoots Shiro a smug grin. “Why do you think my hair always looks so nice?”</p><p class="western">They settle Antok onto the plush rug beside their bed, and Shiro sits behind him, brush in hand. It’s easy to start, just like he does on his husband, and he runs the soft bristle brush from the crown of Antok’s head down to the nape of his neck. Like Thace, he doesn’t have hair per se, but thick fur which creates a mane about as long as Shiro’s own floof. He purrs when Shiro drags the brush through it.</p><p class="western">“Feels good, right?” Keith grins, then leans down to press a kiss to Shiro’s temple. “Shiro’s the best. I’m gonna go find some real clothes for you.”</p><p class="western">“We’re alright,” Shiro replies, squeezing his husband’s fingers quickly.</p><p class="western">The task at hand is massive, as is Antok, but he sits patiently and let’s Shiro fuss over him, dragging the brush across the broad swathe of his back, smoothing his thick fur until the crimson, lilac and deep grey edges blend crisply together. He moves onto Antok’s arms, flattening the fur and following the brush with the trail of his fingers, just like he does for Keith, and for the space wolf. Antok’s fur is thick and glossy as Shiro dispels the static left by the blow dryer. Under his fur, Antok is muscled and tense. Shiro rubs his thumb in little circles over the nape of his neck.</p><p class="western">“Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p class="western">“I should have listened to Ulaz.”</p><p class="western">“Oh?”</p><p class="western">“He said the cleansing facilities were weird here.”</p><p class="western">Shiro flushes guilty.</p><p class="western">“Sorry about that.” <em>Atlas, we need to do something about this. Could you add it to my schedule?</em></p><p class="western">
  <em>You need to learn to delegate, Captain.</em>
</p><p class="western">
  <em>Yeah, yeah. I work too hard. We’ve established this. Please Atlas.</em>
</p><p class="western">Her chime this time is softer, like a smile.</p><p class="western">
  <em>Yes, Captain.</em>
</p><p class="western">“I should have listened to Ulaz about you too.” Antok says eventually.</p><p class="western">Shiro makes a soft questioning noise in his throat, but he doesn’t press.</p><p class="western">“He said you would understand. He told me you would want to help.”</p><p class="western">“When was this?”</p><p class="western">“Right after Keith’s trial.”</p><p class="western">“Oh Antok….” Shiro’s runs his fingers in a sweeping motion across the big Galra’s shoulders. Keith’s trial is a vivid and visceral memory, but it was also years and years ago. “You are beautiful and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Even you.”</p><p class="western">“Oh…”</p><p class="western">“Now hold still, there’s more of you to brush.”</p><p class="western">Antok smiles, his fluffy ears flicking forward as he ducks his head, and Shiro goes back to brushing. By the time he strokes the long, crested fur of Antok’s tail, his hands are tired, and Antok gleams.</p><p class="western">“Very pretty.”</p><p class="western">“Do you really think so?” Shiro gets the feeling that if Antok could blush, he would be doing so.</p><p class="western">“Yes. And I think Kolivan will think so too.” Shiro smiles, and helps his friend to stand. “Maybe you should show him.”</p><p class="western">Antok’s eyes – not mismatched, but beautiful and strange and wonderful – narrow with a soft, pleased smile.</p><p class="western">“Thank you, Shiro.”</p><p class="western">“Anytime. Here,” he holds out his brush, and Antok takes it in one enormous palm. “Do Kolivan’s for him. Then you can be soft and sleek together.”</p><p class="western">Once Antok is dressed, he bows, clutching the hairbrush tight to his chest, thanks them both, and Keith’s arm slips around Shiro’s waist as they watch him leave. Keith secured a tie-waisted tunic for Antok, and a pair of gym-leggings. It’s a good look on him.</p><p class="western">“Kolivan will like it.”</p><p class="western">Keith glances up at him with a wry smile.</p><p class="western">“I know that look. He’s not a cat you know.”</p><p class="western">Shiro chuckles.</p><p class="western">“But just think how cute they’ll be curled up around each other-”</p><p class="western">“Shiro!” Keith smacks his arm, but he’s laughing too. “We’re not cats!”</p><p class="western">But it’s a very hard image to shake, especially when he wraps Keith up in both arms and nuzzles into his hair. Keith purrs.</p><p class="western">“There’s my good kitten.”</p><p class="western">“And what exactly are you planning to brush me with now, Captain?”</p><p class="western">Shiro drags his prosthetic fingers down his husband’s spine, loving the way Keith moulds against him.</p><p class="western">“Oh, I’ll find something <em>else</em> for us to do, kitten.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please come chat with us on <a href="https://twitter.com/SashaDistan">Twitter</a></p><p>This author responds to comments.</p><p>Thank you to the incredible <a href="https://twitter.com/@leandralena">Lole</a> for being an awesome beta reader.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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